Shipper Core
by OMFG-Roach
Summary: My fanfiction based off of the website, Avatar Spirit Network. Well...kinda. This is gonna be big! Read and review, please!
1. Chapter 1

SHIPPER CORE

By PapaRoavatar (OMFG-Roach)

A/N: Guess who's back, back again; Shady's back; tell a friend…

Yes, I'm back! I do believe that I think my return shall be quite amazing, no?

Now, to business! I've been thinking about writing this story for quite some time, at least a few months. Then, it hit me:

Why not make a universe about it?

So…I thought I'd start it off by telling you what's in store first, before I get to the juicy bits:

This is a _series_ of stories. No…make that a _multiple series_ of stories. How many, you ask?

Here's the list:

SHIPPER CORE:

Shipper Core

Shipper Core A.E. ('A.E.' stands for 'Alternate Entrance,' a bridge between stories, if you will)

Shipper Core 2: Dark Echo

Shipper Core 2: Dark Echo A.E.

Shipper Core 3: Messiah

Shipper Core 3: Messiah A.E.

Shipper Core 4: Answer

Shipper Core 4: Answer A.X. ('A.X.' stands for 'Alternate Exit,' a bridge between series, if you will)

SHIPPER CORE WING

Shipper Core: Wing

Shipper Core: Wing A.E.

Shipper Core: Wing 2 Ravens

Shipper Core: Wing 2 Ravens A.E.

Shipper Core: Wing: 3 Kings

Shipper Core: Wing: 3 Kings A.E.

Shipper Core: Wing 4 Truth

Shipper Core: Wing 4 Truth A.X.

…And there'll be more as the story (as a whole) goes on, but for now I'd thought I'd tempt your palate with just the first two series. (A note: The final series will be titled 'Shipper Core D.S Al Coda.' Just thought I'd warn you.)

Now…seeing as this is going to be big, I'd best warn you that this is somewhat of a mild crossover with 'MechWarrior: Dark Age.' There are some 'MW: DA' elements in there, but not enough to derail the story.

Hm…I think I covered all the bases here…oh, wait, no I haven't!

O NOEZ IT'S A DISCLAIMAH! I don't own ASN (Avatar Spirit Network), nor do I own 'MechWarrior: Dark Age.' (HA! I bet you'd expect me to write about 'Avatar,' but _nooooooo!_ This is _ASN_ fiction!)

IT'S A CLAIMAH! I do, however, own the storyline, including all locations mentioned as well as character names (unless otherwise noted). If anyone is interested in joining me in this grand under taking, please, by all means, either email me or PM me (though I'd prefer if you would PM me so I can reply as soon as possible).

* * *

CHAPTER ONE: 'And Justice For All'

_**5 June, 2734**_

_**Delutha City, Rethfordsure**_

_**Saigon XII, Tango Sector **_

_**United Fanon Commonwealth **_

"Anyone mind telling me what the _hell_ is going on?" A brisk, annoyed, bothered male voice asked over the comm.

"_Star One, this is Fox One. Seems like the Canons got their eyes set on taking over the city,_" came the feminine toned reply. She seemed calm, cool, collected, despite the battle raging onwards all around.

"Alright, Fox. Is Baker in the area?"

"_Negative; they've been radio dead for an hour now._"

As the two conversed, the thundering explosions and the raging battle resounded throughout the area, as if it was one giant demonic symphony. There were sounds of 'Mechs firing their weapons, infantry running about, tanks roaring with the guns trained, artillery thumping softly…

"Is the channel open?"

"_Yessir. Patching you through now._"

As if on cue, a panicked voice filled the comm. "_OH MY GOD! HOW MANY OF THESE BLEEPING TANKS ARE THERE?!_"

"Baker One, this is Star One. What's it looking like?"

"_PURE HELL! I've got NO air cover, no fuel, and no ammo to keep these tanks off me!_"

"Fox, have your units support Baker. My boys will back you up."

"_Yessir, moving to engage._"

Then, the Saigon sun…disappeared under a black canopy of Canon DropShips and orbital units. Thousands of aerospace fighters zipped across the sky, darting to and fro with tracers and lasers dotting their targets. It seemed that night descended too early for the escaping civilians, with the menacing sound of thrusters booming all around. It was dark, it was eerie, and it was chaotic.

"This is Captain Roderick Falmouth of Star Group moving to support Fox Group at Baker's location, designated as navpoint Echo. Alright, people this is it! Time to earn our pay."

"_Sir, this is Star Two. These Canons are gonna get what they deserve!_" The second female voice was aggressive, bordering on bloodthirsty.

"Amen to that, Star Two. Amen to that…

"Alright, move in and engage—what the…? Are they—?"

"_Star One, this is Fox One; Canons at the spaceport! Repeat, Canons at the spaceport!_" Fox's voice was filled with panic and urgency. Her 'Mechs had to detour quickly, dodging missiles and lasers…

"Blasted little sonsva—! Dammit! Star Group, new orders! Fall back to cover the spaceport! Those damn Canons slipped behind us!"

"_The bastards! Those dirty little bastards! _" Star Two roared over the comm, clearly annoyed at such an underhanded tactic, "_How'd the_ hell_ get through?! We had the line secure! Bastards!_"

"Baker, how you holding?"

"_Oh, ha HA! Very funny, Capt. How the hell do you _think?!"

"Fox is sending her tanks to help. See if you can fall back and cover the spaceport."

"_Oh, yeah, _sure,_ and how the hell am I supposed to _move?!_ I have _no _fuel, remember?!_"

"Sending an MRU to your location now. Just hang in there, alright? Have your boys cover you while you repair, rearm, and refuel."

"_On it!_"

"_Star One, this is Eagle One. My flyboys are in the air, trying to regain superiority. We're sending gunships to support your units now. Sorry it took so long!_" A suave, Latin male voice filled the comm.

"Damn right you're sorry! Get some of the gunships to support Baker at Echo! Have the rest cover the spaceport."

"_Roger, Captain._"

"_CONTACT! 900 METRES!_" Star Two yelled over the comm, indicating that the Canons were close.

"Hold them off! I'll try and get in touch with spaceport control!"

"_I'm ten steps ahead! Alpha Lance, move in! Swarm 'em!_"

"Control, this is Capt. Falmouth! What's the status of the DropShips?"

"_The last civilian DropShip launched about three hours ago! We're starting to load the wounded soldiers next! Can you hold off the Canons while we try to load as many wounded as possible?_"

"How much time do you need?"

"_For one to fill? I'm estimating three-zero minutes._"

"The fleet designated to carry them?"

"_Hour, maybe two or three. These bastards are everywhere!_"

"Shit…" Falmouth swore quietly, "Dammit…

"Hunter to Ice, Hunter to Ice!" he yelled into the comm.

"_Black One here. Who's calling?_" a sneering, snide voice replied.

"Star One to Black One, can you cover the DropShips as they load and power up?"

"_Eh…I'll see._"

"Hurry up and buy them time. Take the west flank; I'll have my boys take the east."

"_Roger, Star One._"

"Guard Lance, report!"

"_Guard Two, ready!_"

"_Guard Three here. I'm itchin' to crack some Canon skulls…_"

"_Guard Four reporting weapons hot!_"

"Ok, boys and girls, let's try and see if we can get enough time for the DropShips to launch! On my mark, we'll flank these scum from the eastern side.

"Ready…MARK!"

+O+

_**Five hours later**_

The lone _Vulture_ was all that was left of the remaining Fanon defenders on Saigon in regards to who was left outside the DropShip. Its left leg was blackened and burned, with exposed wires hanging out and the metal armor almost ripped apart. The once mighty green and gold paint that adorned the 'Mech so heroically was now smudged with oil and ash; ugly black spots that gave the _Vulture_ now a dirty, filthy look.

Did Falmouth care about this? No. He had a job to do:

Buy enough time for the DropShip to power up and takeoff. This was the last one, too, with the last of the surviving personnel. If the Canons took this one down, all was lost.

"Star One to DropShip, it was nice knowing you guys."

"_Honor serving with you, sir. May God be with you, Captain._"

"He's been with me up until this point; it'd be a shame to know He wasn't.

"Start 'er up."

"_Bringing engines online…_"

The looming Canon tanks and 'Mechs were now starting to enclose the spaceport, slowly choking the _Vulture_.

"_Engines ignited and online. Thrusters at max; weapons are coming online now…_"

The Canon _Marksman_ tank now came into Falmouth's view; a warning sign of what was to come.

"_Weapons online! Taking off in 5…_"

Falmouth feathered the trigger for his Pulse lasers, destroying the tank in seconds.

"_4…_"

A Canon _Wasp_ zipped towards Falmouth's _Vulture_, machine gun firing. Bullets nicked the 'Mech, but Falmouth was unfazed as he slammed the trigger for his AC/5's. Chunks of armor flew off the _Wasp_, metal shards ripping through the air.

"_3…_"

A missile slammed his 'Mech, hitting the left gun. Falmouth returned fire with a volley of his own, slamming the enemy gunship that hit him. Its rotors were sheered off, causing it to rotate slowly downwards as it sank like a stone toward the ground.

"_2…_"

His radar was suddenly filled with Canon signatures, causing him to almost regret his decision to stay behind and buy the DropShip time to takeoff.

But his index fingers lightly wrapped around the triggers. He knew what he had to do.

The rest was blurry. It all happened at once, the DropShip taking off, the following skirmish with the ungodly swarm of the remaining Canon forces…

His 'Mech was taking so much damage that even the onboard computer had advised him to "_Eject…eject…eject…_"

But he kept punching in the override code so much that the ejection rails might have well jammed. He didn't care at this point about surviving anymore; he only cared about taking down these Canon bastards.

He never saw the Canon _Uziel _fire its PPC's. He never saw the azure beams race towards his cockpit in time when he turned his head.

He never made it out as his _Vulture_ exploded into a ball of flames.

+()+

A/N: Thoughts? Concerns? Ideas? Questions? Send 'em to me! Otherwise…

REVIEW!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Well…I may as well keep this train moving, even though no one has reviewed yet.

CHAPTER TWO: 'Quorum Physics'

_**23 March 2744**_

_**New Baltimore, Frostworth**_

_**Azarack, Angel Theatre, Zutarian Commonwealth**_

_**Joint Fanon Union Forces Headquarters **_

The Tokkian senator slammed his fist into the grand oak table with a resounding and sickening _thud_. The entire room almost jumped at the sound.

"For Chi's sake, Ming, are you out of your bloody mind?!" Orwell Cameron accused his fellow Fanon colleague. His crinkled, scrunched emerald eyes made it clear that he had years of political experience under his belt. His wrinkly hands were scarred with many years of hard labor beforehand. His near-platinum hair signaled that he was almost past his prime, but he wasn't going to let some young hotshot snuff _him_ out just yet.

A woman, much younger than him, swiveled her chair to face the rest of the committee. Her blond hair flowed down her back in a yellow waterfall, and her purple eyes were both cocky and calculating. Her smile bordered on smug, and her posture made it clear that she was just getting started with this meeting.

"And what explanation, Senator Cameron, do you have to support this?" Ming Uesekai retorted as she straightened her posture.

"It's been almost a decade since the United Fanon Commonwealth fled the Alpha Galaxy, _Admiral_," Orwell explained with a hint of venom, "And what you're proposing is just…_blasphemous!_ Outrageous! Insane! I understand the fact that we need to take back our home galaxy (in fact I support it), but this…_mass_ _invasion _you are suggesting is just too costly, both financially and in terms of personnel! We'd be sending millions—no, _trillions_—of young military officers to the slaughterhouse!"

"Since when did money factor in to this, Senator?" the Jinokkian Counselor asked, her voice half curious and half accusing. Her jade eyes almost pierced into Orwell's very soul, causing him to shift a tiny bit.

"I agree with Counselor Kyora, when was money a problem?" the Toko Representative agreed, his mildly Scottish voice pressuring Orwell. His golden eyes and black hair almost made him look much, much younger than the rest of the committee.

"Counselor Kyora, Representative Banner…just look at the proposal! How the _hell_ are we going to find the appropriate funds for this campaign, let alone convince our respective populations that this invasion is necessary?"

"I'm sure that the Zutarians have a remedy for this…" the Taang Chairwoman prompted, her voice trying to ease the tension.

"And indeed I do, Chairman Fumistzu," Uesekai replied, her voice bordering on arrogant, "I suggest that we each use the taxes we collect from our respective peoples to foot the…_bare_ basic costs for the _campaign_. If my projections are correct, this should only take roughly…seven months at the latest—"

"Seven _months_, Admiral?! _Seven_ months?! Now you're just pushing it!" Orwell accused, "How the _hell_ will we achieve the capital to pay for the basic costs in just _seven months?!_ If I am doing my math right, by the time we get enough money to pay for this entire invasion, let alone the _basic costs_, we'd all be well six feet under!"

"Let me finish, Senator," Uesekai chastened, "Now, as I was saying, we could have the money to pay for this _campaign_ in roughly seven months, if not earlier. Chi knows that if we don't have the costs paid by then, we'd all be royally screwed."

"Damn right we would be!" Orwell shot back, "In fact, we're all screwed with your proposal! It's just too costly! Both fiscally and personnel-wise! This brings up the next problem:

"How the _hell_ are we going to find enough military units to form the invasion force?!"

"Admiral," Banner prompted more calmly, "Just _how _are we going to pull this off?"

"See?!" Orwell exclaimed to the rest of the committee, "Even Banner agrees with me! And we _rarely_ agree on anything!"

"Now, now, Representative, I have the answer," Uesekai replied, trying very hard to keep from ripping out Orwell's spleen, "I suggest that we each assign twenty to forty battalions—"

"_Forty battalions?!_ My _Chi_, Admiral, you _are_ mental!" Orwell blurted out, interrupting Uesekai.

"Senator, _please!_" the Tylokkian Duchess pleaded, "I'm sure Admiral Uesekai knows what she's talking about!"

"EVERYBODY JUST SHUT UP!" Uesekai roared, losing her cool.

The room then entered an eerie and choking silence. No one even dared to breathe lest they incurred the Zutarian Admiral's wrath.

"May I continue?" Uesekai calmed herself, regaining her composure. The only thing that supplied a response was the deafening quiet. "I take it that's a yes? Good.

"As I was saying, we would _each_ assign forty battalions to the _strike force_, and have them ready within just days of us finally paying off the campaign's costs."

"Ming, just look at your own proposal for once!" Orwell argued, breaking the silence, "None of us have enough units to fill up the entire force, let alone us each pitching in to help this!"

"Alright then, we'll vote," Uesekai challenged, "We'll see who really supports this war.

"Duchess Viviane, if you may?"

"Yes, Admiral," Viviane nodded before addressing the rest of the committee, her young, grey eyes scanning over them as her red hair flowed down her back, "The rules as follows: You can only vote once, you cannot change your vote, and all votes are final unless otherwise stated.

"Beginning with the Toko Commonality," Viviane prompted Banner.

"The Commonality sides for the proposal," Banner replied, no further comments made.

"Taang Fiefs," Viviane moved on to Fumistzu.

"The Fiefs also give their support to the war," Fumistzu agreed.

"Jinokkian Parliament," Viviane rolled on.

"The Parliament votes for the proposal," Kyora nodded as she spoke the word of her people, "It's time for us to retake our home."

"The Tylokkian Duchy votes in support of the proposal," Viviane added, "Moving on to the Tokkian Singularity—"

"The Singularity refuses to participate in voting," Orwell snapped, "Not when the proposal puts the lives of many military personnel at risk."

"Senator Cameron, please state your vote or you will not be counted regardless," Viviane warned.

"Fine…" Orwell conceded, "The Singularity votes against the invasion. It's too costly; so many things could go wrong; and we, the committee, could be held responsible for the deaths of _trillions_ of military personnel and countless more civilians. This isn't a game, Ming; this is a real war with even more real consequences."

"The Zutarian Commonwealth cannot vote due to having proposed this topic," Viviane stated, "Sorry, Ming. Rules are rules."

"Vote count?" Uesekai was unfazed by her inability to vote, in fact, she didn't need to. After all, why would she propose something she didn't support?

"Four supporting, one opposing," Viviane reported, "We need a majority vote of at least three of the five assembled to have the decision made final."

"Has the majority been reached?" Uesekai asked, knowing the answer already.

"It has," replied Viviane.

"Then it's final?"

"Yes. The proposal will go on. Operation Homeward will mobilize on your authority, Admiral."

"Then I give word to mobilize. Like Kyora said, it's time for us to take back our home."

+()+

A/N: And so it begins!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: GIANORMOUS thank you to **RougeBaron**, author of the "I, Kerensky" trilogy (which you must read, for it is made of pure, hardcore, raw awesome and win) for reviewing chapter 2. Your review meant a lot to me, man! Thanks for the criticism! But let's keep this train a'rollin' (*fake cowboy voice* RRRRRRRRAAAAAWWWWWW HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIDE)!

CHAPTER THREE: 'Errors of Zero'

_**25 October 2744**_

_**Hangar N-C-C 1701, JSUF Space Station **_**Swordbearer**_**, near **_**Titan**_** Jump-Point**_

_**Orbiting Rickardson, Hunter Theatre, Zutarian Commonwealth **_

_**T Minus 48 hours 'till Fanon Strike Fleet **_**Alpha**_** mass jumps into Alpha Galaxy**_

"Chi-dammit!" Captain Peter Rondos swore, "Phil, lay off the skirts, _please…_" He pressed a rough, calloused hand to his head, shaking his dark blond hair in frustration as he scrunched his sky blue eyes closed. _How old am I again? 25? 26? 26 years old and I_ still_ have to baby-sit… _His combat boots and his olive jumpsuit pants clashed with his white t-shirt and his black combat vest.

"C'mon! We got what, two days? Two days until we have to mass jump, man!" an annoyed, Brooklyn-style voice replied, swiveling his red-head revealing piercing green-grey eyes, wearing roughly the same attire Peter was, "Plenty of time to get some!"

"PHIL!" Peter roared back, clearly frustrated with his SSgt's antics.

"Alright, alright! Damn…and I wonder _why_ you have fans…both civilian and brass-wise…" Phil Lanterini muttered as he left the broad he was flirting with behind.

"Enough backtalk and get to work, Phil; I want these 'Mechs prepped for loading," Peter ordered sternly. _Chi save that kid. He's gonna end up six feet under with the way he's acting now. _

_Remember Stan?_ Peter's father's voice called back, _He was acting the same way Phil is. Turned his attitude around during the attack on Saigon. Became one of the best damn tank commanders I knew. Saved my ass more than once back then. 'Rod and Stan,' they called us, 'The Mighty Two…' Those were the days when being a hero meant much more than just climbing into a 'Mech, son. Being a hero meant that you had to be willing to risk it all for the sake of others. Hell, that's what kept us Fanons going during the defense. That's what kept me going during my last stand. They called it 'Falmouth's Miracle.' They don't know I wasn't planning on givin' them a miracle; I was givin' 'em time to launch that last damned DropShip…_

_Dad, please—_ Peter tried to reason, but was cutoff.

_Even though you're using your mother's maiden name, never forget that you're a Falmouth to your core, Pete. Never forget that. You may have built your reputation as Captain Peter Rondos; you will always be Peter Timson Falmouth. _Peter's father's voice echoed in his mind, with its church bell-ringing sound causing a tear to trickle down his face.

Peter wiped away the stray tear. _No time to cry. You gotta jump in two days. You didn't bring this unit all the way here just to cry, did you?_ _Didn't think so. _

"Um…excuse me…I'm looking for the commanding officer of the Fighting Fifth…could you tell me where he is?" a honey-sounding, melodic, feminine Hispanic voice asked nervously.

Peter turned his head to his left to see a beautiful, black haired, blue eyed, tan skinned Hispanic Goddess staring at him, shy and confused. Her brightly colored news attire (her teal sports jacket, her neon red shirt, her yellow heels and lime dress…_Damn is she good to look at!_) indicated that she was a reporter. Her microphone was clasped in her right hand, and the camera crew that followed her was about to go on the air, if the sound guy trying to inch his own, long microphone towards Peter was any indication. The cameraman maneuvered the camera to focus on both Peter and the reporter.

"The commander of the Fighting Fifth? That would be one Captain Peter Rondos," Peter joked, smirking.

"And he is…?" the reporter prompted, curious.

"Right in front of you."

"I don't—wait a minute! Omichi! You're—_you're_ him?! Omichi! Tina Gonzales, Fief News Network!" she offered her microphone-free hand excitedly. A wonderful, amazing smile lit up her lovely features. _Probably had her makeup just put on this morning…like she'd need it, though. She looks so damn—wait…what the _hell_ am I thinking?!_

_Looks good, though, _Peter's father joked, _looks_ real_ good._

_DAD! _"Uh…yeah, last I checked. Funny how people change so fast, huh?" Peter joked. He tried to put on his best smile, but only succeeded in looking sheepish. He reverted back to his smirk to beforehand. Tina, apparently, was in her own little world as she tried not to squeal with delight aloud.

"And we're on in 5…" the cameraman began to count down, "4…"

_This is so great! I get to interview _the_ Captain Peter Rondos of the Fighting Fifth!_ Tina thought, secretly squealing to herself.

"3…"

"So…you come here often?" Peter whispered chuckling into Tina's ear. His voice sounded like wedding bells ringing softly across rolling plains to her…_Omichi is he hot or _what?! _Gah…gotta get a grip, the camera's about to come on…_

"Um…" Tina blushed as she tried not to lose herself, "This is my first war story…at least, my first to be covered over such a period of time…"

"How long?" Peter asked, curious.

'"Well…let's just say we'll be seeing each other a _lot_, as in, my crew and I will be…'living' with your unit for the rest of the war…" Tina sighed.

"2…"

"Aw, _crap…_" Peter murmured to himself, annoyed that he'd not only have the duty of leading his men, but also that of protecting civilians. News reporters, no less. Why _any_one would want to _actually_ be reporting, firsthand, on a war that no one knew when it would end was beyond him.

_Chi save this woman and whatever sanity she has left_, Peter prayed.

"1…"

+()+

A/N: And that's all she wrote for this chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Oh. My. CHRIST. I'm sorry, fanbase! I did not mean to neglect this story!

Anyway, big thanks to **GenghisQuan** for reviewing and nitpicking! XD

ONWARD!

CHAPTER FOUR: 'Cold Start'

_**27 October 2744**_

_**Hangar B-S-G-1345, JSUF DropShip**_** Flaming Eagle,**_** docked on the**__**JumpShip **_**Liberty, **_**near **_**Crosswinds**_** Jump-Point**_

_**Alpha Galaxy**_

_**Orbiting Redington, Prefecture XIII, Kataang Contract, Canon Hegemony (formerly Tango Sector, United Fanon Commonwealth) **_

_**T minus 12 hours 'till Fanon Strike Force **_**Alpha **_**mass drops onto planet**_

"Alright, people, this is it! We've reached the point of no return!

"TEN-HUT!" The sergeant barked to his platoon.

The soldiers snapped their boots together, standing firm, heels smashed against the other. They held their rifles stock on the ground, muzzle pointed skyward. Their camouflaged armor and their individual rank insignias glistened in the dull lighting of the hangar. Their helmets were on, the amber visors down.

They were ready. They had trained for this very moment; this very war.

"I want each of you to listen up and listen good, 'cause I ain't saying this again," the sergeant began, "This is what you've all trained for, so no screw ups! We're the front line, people, so we got a _lot _to do! We have BattleArmor to support, tanks to cover, jeeps to man, 'Mechs to watch over, gunships to give ground support for! And Chi-damn me to _hell_ if even _one_ of you fails to meet your objective, you hear me?!

"Remember your training, and remember this: Keep your fingers on the trigger, and we all go home. Aim for those damned Canons' heads and we'll all live to fight this war some more.

"Am I understood?!" He marched up and down the platoon, as if searching for a weak link, a chink in the proverbial armor.

"SIR YESSIR!" the rest of the platoon barked in unison, their many voices merging into one.

"I can't hear you!" the sergeant fired back, cupping his right ear with his hand.

"SIR YESSIR!" the platoon cried, louder, almost straining their voices.

"That's what I want to hear, boys! Now get your asses loaded up and head straight to the pod! We got some Canon skulls t'crack!"

+O+

_**Hangar N-C-C 1701**_

_**T minus 10 hours 'till mass drop**_

"Uh…Ms. Gonzales?" The grunt assigned to escort Tina to her quarters asked nervously.

"Yes, Private?" she prompted, turning to face him. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her makeup was washed off. Funny, she almost looked like one of the soldiers gearing up far war, if the fact that she was wearing some Chi-awful olive _jumpsuit _and combat boots were any indication.

"Capt. Rondos didn't…ah…he said he didn't get a good look on your dossier, ma'am."

"Why would he say that?" Tina pondered aloud. She had only known Peter for only two days, and already she knew more about him in person than what she had learned from the holovids and battleROMS she swiped from management offices for the FNN back home on Tari.

_Don't think about home now; you have a job to do._

"Maybe the file didn't transfer properly," the private nervously offered.

"But it was flawless! I swear, if management screwed up again—"

"They didn't screw up," a new voice interjected, "I just didn't have the time."

"SIR!" the private barked, snapping his heels together and slamming his outstretched sideways palm against his forehead.

"At ease, Private; dismissed," Peter relieved the grunt. The grunt nodded his brown head and walked off.

"As for you, why do you care if I got a good look at your file or not?" he accused Tina, left fist on his hip.

"For Chi's sake, Peter! You nearly killed me there!" Tina snapped back, taken by surprise, "As for my file, I think you might've never even _read_ it!"

"I did read it! And I didn't think you wouldn't know!" Peter shot back, voice laced with venom.

"Then why are you here?" Tina growled, her wits wearing thin.

"I was checking up on you! Am I _allowed_ to do that?!" Peter snapped, his own temper giving him a very sharp edge to his words.

"Maybe if you gave me a _fair warning_!" Tina hotly retorted, starting to circle around Peter.

"Oh, me giving fair warnings, now _there's _a riot!" Peter shot back, also beginning to circle.

"It'd be nice every now and then!"

"Like you'd care!"

In the background, a crowd had gathered, secretly forming to avoid the attention of the two 'combatants'.

"I _would_ care!"

"How much?!"

"Enough to know that I'm _safe_!"

"You _are_ safe! Why do you need to know?!"

For the first time, Tina was tongue-tied. She couldn't fire back! How could this have happened?! She tried to shake out a reply, but her mouth wouldn't open. What was _with_ her, for Chi's sake?!

Peter stopped his circling, pausing. He stared at Tina, waiting for the reply that would never come. For once, he was growing concerned. "Tina? You ok?"

Tina looked at him, an odd look in her eye. _Is he…no, he couldn't be…could he?_

"Hello, Chi to Tina! Come in!" Peter prompted, trying to get a reply.

Tina remained silent. Out of all the things she learned, the fact that Captain Peter Gerald Rondos of the ZKCAF Fifth Armed Regulars actually had shown _compassion_ towards a _civilian_ was the weirdest thing she discovered all day.

Well, at least for now.

+()+

A/N: Say it with me now…D'AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW!


End file.
